Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sprague,  Mr.  Williams,  Mr.  Roberts,  Missionaries  of  Kalgan  Station. 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT 


OE  GOBI. 


A Narrative  of  an  Escape  during  the 
Boxer  Uprising, 

June  to  September,  igoo 


By  MARK  WILLIAMS 


Copyright,  igoi. 


PRESS  OF 

REPUBLICAN  PUBLISHING  CO,, 
HAMILTON,  OHIO. 

1901. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2017  with  funding  from 
Columbia  University  Libraries 


https://archive.org/details/acrossdesertofgoOOwill 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 


The  out-burst  of  the  Chinese  against  all  foreigners  in 
June,  1900,  was  so  sudden,  that  many  of  our  missionaries 
in  the  interior  were  unable  to  escape,  and  were  murdered. 
Many  others  were  saved  in  ways  almost  miraculous.  The 
story  of  the  siege  of  Peking  is  still  fresh  in  our  minds.  The 
following  letters  from  the  Rev.  Mark  Williams  to  his  chil- 
dren describe  the  escape  of  one  company  of  missionaries 
across  the  Desert  of  Gobi  into  Siberia. 


Kalgan,  May  19,  1900. 

Dkar  Home  Friends: 

I have  just  returned  from  a week’s 
journey  into  Mongolia  with  Prof.  G.  F.  Wright  and  son 
of  Oberlin,  Ohio.  Crossing  ranges  of  mountains,  there  was 
grand  scenery.  Were  entertained  at  the  Roman  Catholic 
Village  of  Hsi  Wan  Tzu,  where  we  met  several  Belgian 
priests  and  the  bishop.  A building  300  ft.  long  was  being 
erected.  The  village  has  1600  inhabitants — all  Catholics. 
There  are  400  girls  in  school,  most  of  whom  had  been  cast 
out  at  birth,  but  were  rescued  by  the  Catholics.  When 
they  reach  the  proper  age,  they  are  married  to  native 
Christians.  Prof.  W.  is  much  intere.sted  in  the  mountain 
of  loess  here.  There  are  four  tiers  of  cave  houses  in  its 
side,  inhabited  by  the  poor. 

We  hear  that  placards  have  been  posted  in  Kalgan  by 
the  Boxers,  who  have  come  from  Peking.  But  we  don’t 
think  the  people  here  will  heed  them. 


6 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 


Tungcho,  May  25. 

I came  from  Kalgan  with  Prof.  W.  who  got  a brick 
from  the  Great  Wall  to  take  to  the  United  States.  Fred 
has  taken  many  photos  of  scenery. 

They  went  on  to  Peking,  and  intend  going  on  to  Tien- 
tsin tomorrow.  I am  told  that  70  Catholics  have  been  killed 
near  Pao  Ting  Fu. 

We  hear  that  refugees  are  coming  into  Peking,  and  the 
Boxers  threaten  to  destroy  the  Chapels  there. 

May  30. 

Boxers  have  destroyed  a station  on  the  railroad.  Miss 
Gould  was  expecting  to  come  to  Annual  meeting,  but 
tracks  are  torn  up.  At  dinner,  we  all  hear  the  telegram 
Mr.  Charles  Ewing  sends  from  Peking.  News  is  excit- 
ing now.  The  Ministers  told  the  Tsung  Li  Yamen  that 
they  will  send  to  Tientsin  for  Marines  to  guard  the  Lega- 
tions. 

Peking,  June  6. 

I came  up  from  Tungcho,  as  Annual  meeting  had  ended. 
On  June  2,  two  English  missionaries,  near  Tientsin,  were 
killed.  The  Christians  fear  an  attack,  and  are  planning  to 
come  to  our  Chapel  for  protection.  Mr.  Pitkin  has  sent  a 
mes.seuger,  and  Dr.  Taylor  several  telegrams  telling  of 
their  danger  at  Pao  Ting  Fu.  Trains  have  ceased  running 
to  Tientsin,  and  the  mail  cannot  be  carried  to  Tungcho.  I 
fear  this  letter  cannot  reach  you.  Fortunately,  we  have 
two  mule  litters  to  take  us  to  Kalgan  without  any  delay. 

Kalgan,  June  ii,  1900. 

Traveling  early  and  late,  we  made  the  journey  from 
Peking  to  Kalgan  in  five  days.  Fearing  harm,  we 
journeyed  in  closed  litters  until  out  of  Peking,  although  the 
heat  was  intense.  We  heard  rumors  of  robbers  in  the 
mountainous,  coal-mining  districts  through  which  we 
passed,  and  unplowed  fields  on  every  hand  showed  how  Boxer 
discontent  had  infected  even  the  plodding  farmer  classes.  I 
remember,  as  we  passed  through  a village,  to  have  heard  a 


ACROSS  the  desert  OF  GOBI. 


7 


bj^stander  mutter  to  his  companion,  “Those  foreigners  will 
be  dead  men  in  a few  days.’’  Yet  we  received  nothing  but 
kind  treatment  at  the  inns  along  the  way. 

Reaching  Kalgan  on  Sunday,  the  tenth  of  June,  we  saw 
great  throngs  of  people  streaming  toward  our  mission  com- 
pound. With  difficulty  we  made  our  way  through  the 
crowd  at  the  gate,  and  felt  that  we  had  come  at  an  oppor- 
tune time  to  protect  our  property.  We  held  council  at 
once  with  our  Chinese  pastors  and  teachers,  who  were  seri- 
ously alarmed  at  the  tidings  we  had  brought  from  Peking. 

At  dusk,  there  arose  a hubbub  and  pounding  of  stones 
at  our  gate.  The  .servants  and  helpers  rushed  in,  crying, 
“Bring  your  guns!  The  Boxers  are  upon  us!’’  We  had  a 
breech-loader,  a magazine  rifle,  and  a revolver.  The  fire- 
extinguisher  was  filled  with  sulphuric  acid  to  shower  on 
the  crowd.  We  all  felt  cool  enough,  although  we  realized 
that  an  angry  mob  might  be  rushing  in  upon  us  at  any 
moment,  if  the  gates  were  broken  down.  At  length,  Mr. 
Sprague  climbed  the  wall,  and  shouting  to  the  crowd  to 
disperse,  fired  a few  blank  cartridges  into  the  air.  This 
terrified  the  ignorant  mob,  and  in  a short  time  all  were 
gone.  We  took  council  again,  and  decided  that  w^e  ought 
to  go  to  the  Yamen,  the  official  residence  of  the  magistrate, 
and  place  ourselves  under  its  protection.  So  we  made 
hurried  preparations.  The  schoolgirls  and  Christian 
women  on  the  place  were  sent  away  to  Gardener  Jen’s,  on 
the  other  side  of  the  river,  whence  they  could  escape 
unnoticed  to  their  homes.  The  teacher  would  care  for  the 
schoolboys.  The  servants  all  bade  us  goodby^e,  and  a guard 
of  soldiers  stood  ready'  to  watch  the  place.  None  of  us 
slept,  between  packing  and  planning.  We  put  a few  nec- 
essary articles  in  trunks,  collected  bedding  and  clothing, 
and  at  3 a.  m.  stole  silently  out,  Mr  and  Mrs.  Sprague,  Dr. 
Murdock,  Miss  Engh,  Mr.  Roberts  and  I.  We  found  our 
way  across  the  fields,  and  reached  the  Yamen  before  light. 
After  some  time,  the  gates  were  opened  for  us,  and  we 
waited  until  nine  o’clock  for  the  official  to  come,  Mr. 


8 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 


Sprague  used  this  leisure  time  to  go  back  to  our  homes. 
He  found  the  coast  clear,  and  brought  back  three  carts 
loaded  with  boxes,  bedding  and  food.  We  spent  the  day 
waiting.  The  mandarin  was  kind,  sending  in  tea,  and  giv- 
ing us  a chance  to  buy  food  at  the  restaurants.  He  sent, 
too,  for  our  banker,  from  whom  we  drew  money  for  our 
journey.  The  mandarin  told  us  that  he  could  not  protect 
us,  and  we  must  leave  that  night  for  Mongolia.  We 
received  a telegram  that  Tung  Cho  was  abandoned,  prem- 
ises looted  and  college  buildings  burned,  and  that  the 
missionaries  and  pupils  were  refugees  at  the  Methodist 
compound  in  Peking.  Many  Christians  killed,  telegraph 
cut  between  Tientsin  and  Peking,  and  reinforcements  of 
foreign  soldiers  delayed.  All  this  was  depressing.  But  a 
gong  was  beaten  all  day  at  Kalgan,  warning  any  against 
disturbing  our  chapels,  which  was  encouraging  to  us. 

Before  evening,  the  mandarin  wanted  us  removed  to  a 
less  public  room,  where  our  carts  could  be  loaded  without 
exciting  so  much  notice.  We  were  fearful  that  leaving  on 
the  evening  of  the  Feast  Day,  the  mob  might  attack  us. 
We  had  a prayer-meeting  together,  and  prayed  as  those 
who  knew  not  but  their  end  had  come.  We  repeated  verses 
and  1 the  Traveler’s  Psalm,  which  we  have  so  often  used 
together: 


“I  will  lift  up  mine  eyes  unto  the  hills. 
From  whence  cometh  my  help. 

My  help  cometh  from  the  Lord, 

Which  made  heaven  and  earth.” 


The  night  grew  late.  But  we  knew  that  the  danger 
was  growing  less  with  the  lateness  of  the  hour.  At  last, 
after  midnight,  the  soldiers  came,  and  our  boxes  and  pro- 
visions were  rapidly  placed  on  the  three  carts.  It  was  a 
mild,  moonlight  night,  and  the  streets  were  clear.  We 
had  twelve  mounted  .soldiers  as  escort.  As  we  neared  the 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 


9 


Great  Gate,  we  saw  about  fifty  armed  men.  We  thought 
of  Boxers,  but  found  that  they  were  an  extra  guard  of  sol- 
diers to  see  us  safely  out  of  China.  The  city  gate  of  Kal- 
gan  is  a northern  gate  of  the  Great  Wall,  and  opens  out 
into  Mongolia.  The  night  grew  cool,  but  we  travelled  rap- 
idly. The  ladies  rode  horseback  part  of  the  time.  At 
seven  o’clock,  on  the  morning  of  June  twelfth,  we  reached 
a village,  and  dropped  on  the  kang  at  an  inn  to  sleep,  as  we 
had  been  under  excitement,  and  had  had  no  sleep  for  two 
nights. 

All  through  the  day  of  June  twelfth,  I kept  thinking  of 
Commencement  at  the  Western,  and  of  my  daughters’ 
graduation,  I was  glad  you  did  not  know  what  we  were 
going  through  then,  to  make  the  day  less  bright. 

We  went  on  to  the  Mongol  plains,  and  halted  at  the 
encampment  of  the  Tama  Brothers.  They  entertained  us, 
but  seemed  unfriendly,  and  wanted  us  to  leave  the  next 
day.  We  began  to  fear  that  we  would  not  be  allowed  to 
stay  even  in  Mongolia,  as  they  told  us  that  the  Boxers 
were  all  around.  So  we  passed  another  troubled  night.  I 
could  hear  Roberts  and  Sprague  whisper  in  the  night  as  to 
their  plans.  It  would  be  risky  getting  things  from  our 
houses  in  Kalgan,  and  traveling  to  and  fro.  If  the  Lama 
would  not  let  us  stay,  we  must  plan  to  move  on  to  Urga, 
first  getting  all  the  money  we  had  in  the  Kalgan  bank,  to 
buy  provisions  for  the  long  journey.  After  reaching  Urga, 
we  could  telegraph  to  the  United  States  for  money,  and 
perhaps  go  home.  We  saw  that  if  we  had  fled  without 
putting  ourselves  under  the  care  of  the  Yamen,  we  could 
have  had  no  protection  whatever.  Again  and  again  that 
night,  I thought  of  my  wife’s  escape  from  the  Indians  in 
the  outbreak  of  1862. 


June  15,  Friday. 

I have  a chance  to  send  a letter  by  Russian  mail,  as  I 
fear  you  cannot  receive  my  letters  via  Peking.  We  are 
w'aiting  for  a telegram  from  Kalgan  which  will  throw  light 


lO 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 


on  our  future.  We  are  not  ready  to  decide  to  go  to  Urga, 
and  hope  that  the  situation  will  grow  more  favorable,  so 
that  we  need  not  go. 

Hara  Osa,  June  25. 

This  is  a station  of  the  Christian  Alliance  Mission. 
The  Lama  Brothers  would  not  keep  us,  so  we  have  joined 
a part}'  of  Swedish  missionaries,  and  expect  to  go  with 
them  to  Urga.  For  nine  days  we  have  waited  in  suspense, 
not  knowing  whether  we  were  to  go  or  stay.  But  the  Man- 
darin tells  us  that  we  must  leave  at  once,  as  Boxers  are  re- 
ported near.  Mr.  Roberts  and  Mr.  Sprague  have  twice  re- 
turned to  Kalgan  for  needed  money  and  provisions  for  the 
desert  journey.  They  dared  not  go  through  the  citv  gate, 
but  climbing  the  mountains,  cro.ssed  the  Great  Wall  at 
dark,  and  so  escaped  notice.  The  Mandarin  is  still  pro- 
tecting our  mission  compound,  but  how  long  he  will  be 
able  to  do  this,  is  uncertain.  Our  Yii  Cho  and  Ching  Ke 
Ta  Christians  are  in  terror,  and  hiding,  but  we  have  no  way 
to  help  them. 

By  a wonderful  providence,  we  have  a caravan  ready 
for  us,  one  which  was  ordered  for  a Mr.  Campbell,  of  the 
British  Legation,  who  had  planned  to  take  a trip  into  Mon- 
golia this  summer.  We  realize  how  difficult,  indeed,  al- 
most impossible,  it  would  have  been  to  secure  enough 
camels  and  horses  for  the  desert  journey,  and  are  very 
thankful.  The  sentiment  against  foreigners  is  rapidly 
growing  more  and  more  hostile,  and  we  have  to  pay 
roundly  when  we  do  buy. 

We  had  planned  to  start  early,  on  the  morning  of  June 
twenty-third,  but  horses  were  lost,  and  it  was  noon  before 
thev  could  be  found.  Then  it  took  time  to  get  the  camels 
harnessed  to  the  carts,  and  loads  adjusted,  so  that  the 
caravan  did  not  finally  set  on  its  way  until  six  o’clock  in 
the  evening.  Imagine  the  sight!  We  had  five  camel  carts, 
twelve  horses,  and  ten  baggage  camels.  The  baby  carriage 
trailed  after  a cart.  Mr.  Larson  rode  a bicycle,  and  Mr. 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI.  II 

Sprague  and  I drove  two  unruly  sheep.  The  big  dog 
trotted  along  patiently,  bringing  up  the  rear.  At  night  w'e 
pitched  our  tents  on  the  grass,  lighted  a fire,  spread  oil- 
cloths on  the  ground,  with  each  his  share  of  bedding,  and 
slept  the  “sleep  of  the  just.’’ 

“Lost  C.vmel  Camp.’’ 

June  27. 

For  two  days  we  have  been  delayed  by  a stray  camel, 
and  realize  the  truth  of  Kipling’s  warning,  “ ’E’ll  lose 
’imself  forever  if  you  let  ’im  stray  a mile.’’  But  our  delay 
has  turned  out  to  be  most  fortunate,  since  today,  messen- 
gers came  galloping  up,  asking  us  to  wait  for  Messrs.  Jacob- 
son, Sandberg,  Oberg  and  wife  of  Feng  Cheng.  They  are 
two  days  distant,  and  expect  to  join  us.  On  Sunday,  the 
seventeenth,  they  were  mobbed.  Their  gates  were  burst 
open,  and  they  were  beaten  with  clubs.  They  ran  to  the 
Yamen,  but  the  lady  was  struck  down  .several  times. 

“Marble  Camp.’’ 

June  28. 

This  is  a vast  unw’orked  marble  quarry.  We  are  halt- 
ing here  for  the  refugee  party.  We  have  made  slow  pro- 
gress thus  far  with  our  straying  animals,  and  camels  not 
accustomed  to  drawing  carts.  But  soon  the  caravan  will 
get  into  working  order. 

Friday,  June  29. 

If  you  could  look  in  on  us  this  evening,  you  would  see 
a lively  gathering.  Our  carts  and  tents  are  arranged  in  the 
shape  of  a horse  shoe,  and  the  camels  eighteen  in  number, 
are  tied  to  a rope  near  by.  You  would  hear  Mongol, 
Swedish  and  English — Chinese  is  a language  of  the  past. 
The  Mongols  are  busy  roping  boxes  to  be  put  on  camels 
tomorrow;  the  argol  fire  is  blazing,  heating  pots  of  water 
for  tea.  Mongols  often  call  on  us  and  we  give  them  tea,  as 
hospitality  requires.  Whenever  we  eat,  Mongols  crowd 
around  the  tent  door  to  watch  us.  The  nineteen  people  in 
our  party  fill  the  tent,  and  it  is  hard  to  get  food  cooked  for 


12 


ACROSS  the  desert  OF  GOBI. 


SO  many.  The  little  babies  cry,  and  the  older  ones  run 
around  in  danger  of  being  scalded,  or  stepped  on.  Often 
the  babies  are  rolled  up  and  laid  on  a bed,  and  run  great 
danger  of  being  sat  upon. 

June  30. 

At  two  p.  m.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Oberg,  Mr.  Jacobson  and 
Mr.  Sandberg  came.  They  were  welcomed  as  alive  from 
the  dead,  after  their  narrow  escape.  We  fear  for  the  scat- 
tered missionaries  all  over  the  country.  We  feel  that  we 
did  not  leave  a moment  too  soon,  and  fear  that  missionary 
work  cannot  be  resumed  for  a year  or  two.  It  seems  a 
long  time  since  June  tenth,  when  we  reached  Kalgan.  We 
have  been  pilgrims,  driven  from  one  place  to  another,  like 
Noah’s  dove.  It  all  seems  like  a dream. 

We  now  number  thirty  persons,  (counting  our  seven 
Mongols);  nineteen  camels  and  fourteen  hor.ses,  with  six 
camel  carts.  I have  no  regular  way  of  conveyance,  but 
ride  cart,  horse,  or  walk.  I am  supposed  to  be  sheep 
driver,  fuel  gatherer,  and  chaplain  in  turn.  Mr.  Larson 
rides  a bicycle,  and  attracts  much  attention.  When  we 
reach  a Mongol  encampment,  women  come  out  of  the  tents, 
gay  with  their  head  ornaments  of  beads  and  silver,  and  gaze 
with  loud  laughter.  We  see  Mongol  women  dressed  like 
men,  in  heavy  hide  boots,  galloping  over  the  plains.  They 
wear  hats  with  two  bands  of  ribbon  streaming  out  behind. 
A Mongol  woman’s  hair  is  arranged  in  two  braids  which 
are  spread  out  on  sticks,  in  a fan  shape.  It  makes  me 
think  of  a turkey  gobbler  with  his  wings  extended. 

Mongols  often  call  upon  us,  and  offer  us  a snuff  bottle 
in  place  of  handshaking.  We  politely  put  it  to  our  noses 
and  hand  it  back.  In  baying  camels,  Mongols  put  their 
hands  in  one  another’s  sleeves,  feeling  the  fingers  to  know 
the  price  offered.  When  a Mongol  sells  a horse  or  cow,  he 
plucks  a few  hairs  from  the  mane  or  tail,  for  good  luck.  It 
is  picturesque  to  see  a Mongol  galloping  over  the  plains, 
standing  in  his  stirrups  as  if  he  were  riding  on  the  horse’s 


ACROSS  THE  desert  OF  GOBI. 


13 


neck.  It  is  usual  to  see  a Mongol  riding,  and  leading  six 
horses,  going  at  full  speed.  A Mongol  walks  as  awkwardly 
as  a goose,  but  on  horseback  is  as  graceful  as  the  latter  in 
the  water. 

Saturday  night  we  stopped  at  the  encampment  of  an  old 
Mongol  teacher,  who  remembered  seeing  us  thirty  years 
ago.  He  gave  us  milk  for  the  children,  and  treated  us  to 
Mongol  tea  and  cheese.  Mongol  tea  is  a queer  beverage,  a 
mixture  of  fat,  salt,  flour  and  roasted  millet,  with  a flavor 
of  very  poor  tea.  Oatmeal  cakes  and  meat  form  the  bulk 
of  a Mongol’s  meal. 

We  are  wondering  if  our  food  will  hold  out.  Our  rice 
and  millet,  the  two  standbys,  are  fast  disappearing.  We 
kill  a sheep  almost  daily,  for  thirty  people  eat  a good 
deal.  Onr  axle  tree  oil  has  leaked,  so  now  we  melt  sheep’s 
tail  for  oil. 


Desert  of  Gobi,  July  6,  1900. 

Here  we  are  in  this  famous  region.  The  Chinese  call 
this  desert  the  “Sea  of  Sand,’’  because  the  sand  dunes  are 
constantly  moving  from  southwest  to  northeast.  We  cele- 
brated the  Fourth  of  July  by  passing  over  from  the  Chahar 
to  the  Sunet  region,  which  is  less  under  the  Chinese 
influence.  As  we  came  into  the  desert  we  saw  some  very 
singular  stone  hills.  The  desert  looks  like  the  sea  at  a 
distance.  The  sun  rises  and  sets  in  a haze,  and  is  blood- 
red.  A cloud  may  make  a bank  across  the  middle.  We 
heard  thunder,  but  no  rain  fell.  A gust  of  wind  blew  sand 
like  hail;  I thought  of  sand  storms  in  the  Sahara. 

We  find  scarcely  any  vegetation,  yet  this  has  been  a 
caravan  route  forages.  Wells  have  been  frequent  thus  far, 
and  we  camp  near  them.  We  traveled  from  ten-thirty  a.  m. 
until  nine-thirty  p.  m.  to  reach  a telegraph  station.  All 
were  faint  and  hungry,  and  were  glad  to  hear  Carson’s 
whistle  as,  in  the  dark,  we  neared  the  camp.  It  did  not 
take  long  to  hobble  the  horses  and  pitch  the  tents,  and 


14 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 


soon  we  were  standing  around  the  bright  fire,  looking  like 
gypsies  as  we  watched  the  pots  boiling.  It  was  eleven 
o’clock  before  we  had  anything  to  eat. 

We  are  glad  that  the  telegraph  poles  along  the  way  are 
numbered.  It  takes  twenty-four  poles  for  a mile,  so  we 
can  reckon  how  far  we  are  from  Kalgan.  Yesterday  we 
traveled  until  midnight.  The  moon  went  down  and  the 
baggage  camels  got  ahead,  and  we  lost  the  way.  We  could 
see  the  Pole  Star  and  the  telegraph  poles,  but  feared  we 
might  have  passed  the  camp,  so  three  pistol  shots  were 
fired,  and  we  kept  shouting.  It  is  a strange  sensation  to 
feel  that  you  are  lost  in  a de.sert,  where  whitened  bones  of 
animals  are  strewn  about.  To  our  relief,  we  heara  a horse 
galloping,  and  a Mongol  led  us  to  the  camp  where  a bright 
fire  was  blazing.  At  three  in  the  morning,  we  slept.  On 
rising,  we  saw  a graceful  white  temple  of  Thibetan  style. 
It  looked  like  a fairy  palace  in  the  desert.  We  often  see 
an  antelope  speeding  over  the  plain.  We  are  now  feeling 
the  oven-like  air  which  comes  from  the  sun  heating  the 
sand.  It  is  so  sultry  that  the  work  of  cooking  is  very  diffi- 
cult. We  have  appointed  a committee  of  two  men  and  one 
lady,  daily  to  get  the  meals,  they  appointing  their  succe.ssors. 
Cooking  for  twenty-three  is  no  light  matter. 

July  9,  1900. 

We  are  now  travelling  at  night  as  the  Chinese  do.  It 
is  cool  for  the  animals,  and  gives  them  a chance  to  eat  in 
the  day  time.  Our  dog  barks  no  more  ! At  the  fairy 
palace  he  left  us,  tired  out,  although  we  had  gone  but  a 
fourth  of  the  way.  He  had  barked  so  much  th^t  I told 
Mr.  Larson  that  I,  at  least,  wouldn’t  wear  a hat  band  if  the 
dog  should  die!  But  he  was  too  tired  to  bark  toward  the 
last,  so  I retained  no  hard  feelings  against  him.  We 
bought  two  large  sheep,  and  poor  Mr.  Sandberg  had  a hard 
time  driving  them. 

Mr.  Yook,  the  Chinese  telegraph  operator  at  Kalgan, 
who  is  just  learning  English,  used,  in  his  letters,  to  give 


The  Caravan  in  Motion. 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 


15 


hi.s  regards  to  “the  combination”  meaning  the  company. 
So  we  laugh  about  our  “Combination”  which  looks  like  an 
animal  show  and  circus  combined.  Lundquist’s  cart  door 
has  bars,  and  the  little  boys  howl  inside  like  hyenas;  the 
babies  scream,  and  the  camels  growl.  A camel,  when  it  is 
angry,  expresses  its  displeasure  by  sneezing  on  a person. 
All  of  us  have  a good  laugh  seeing  Mr.  Sandberg  tumble  off 
his  camel.  We  think  a Barnum  might  make  his  fortune 
showing  off  our  “Combination”  in  the  United  States. 

We  have  come  to  the  trying  part  of  our  journey.  The 
heat  is  intense  and  the  wind  hot  Now  is  the  time  to  show 
patience  and  unselfishness.  I am  hardy,  and  stand  the 
journey  well,  but  I don’t  walk  unless  I have  to,  as  1 find 
that  I must  save  ni}^  strength.  Mrs.  Larson  is  always 
patient  with  her  children,  who  are  often  crying,  and  have  the 
whooping-cough.  As  it  is  God’s  providence  which  has  led 
us  here,  and  it  is  His  way  of  saving  our  lives,  it  seems  un- 
grateful to  repine  at  our  having  to  go,  or  to  endure 
troubles.  But  the  hot  weather  and  little  sleep  are  trying. 
We  hail  a Sunday  or  day  of  rest,  when  we  can  get  “slep 
up  and  et  up”  (as  the  Kentucky  darkies  say. ) 

We  made  an  all  night  journey  to  reach  a well.  We 
find  that  we  are  followed  by  soldiers,  who  watch  us  when 
we  are  drawing  water,  lest  we  should  put  poison  in  the 
wells.  It  gives  one  an  idea  of  the  value  of  water  to  see  the 
crowding  of  men  and  animals  around  a well.  We  passed  a 
long  train  of  oxcarts  laden  with  hides  and  wood.  Extra 
oxen  were  led  to  be  used  should  any  give  out,  which,  from 
the  number  of  skeletons  seen,  must  be  a common  occur- 
rence. 

July  15- 

After  a ride  of  fourteen  hours,  we  reached  the  tele- 
graph station,  Oude,  one  half  of  the  way  to  Urga.  We 
came  in  a rain  with  a strong  wind.  One  of  our  camels  took 
fright,  and  ran  at  a great  rate,  frightening  the  whole  cara- 
van. It  was  a ludicrous  sight  to  watch  the  awkward  crea- 
ture, throwing  out  his  crooked  legs,  with  the  saddle  flying 


l6  ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 

to  pieces.  It  was  the  leanest  one  in  the  drove,  and  one 
which  we  had  feared  would  never  be  able  to  cross  the  des- 
ert. But  it  seemed  to  have  a reservoir  of  vitality  upon 
which  we  had  not  reckoned;  for  it  ran  for  miles  before 
stopping,  and  the  Mongol  on  horseback  soon  fell  behind  in 
the  unequal  race. 

Oude  station  is  at  the  base  of  a mountain  which  is  com- 
posed of  layers  of  granite-like  masonry.  We  saw  three  or 
four  trees,  the  first  we  have  seen  since  leaving  Kalgan. 
Most  of  us  called  at  the  station.  While  we  were  there,  a 
storm  came  up,  which  seemed  about  to  blow  down  the  frail 
building.  The  air  was  yellow  with  dust,  and  the  rain  beat 
on  the  iron  roof,  so  that  we  found  conversation  difficult. 
The  operators  told  us  astounding  news  from  Peking.  They 
had  heard  that  all  the  ministers,  and  legation  officials,  and 
the  emperor  himself,  had  been  killed,  but  that  the  mi.ssion- 
aries  were  safe  at  Shanghai. 

On  returning  to  the  camp,  we  found  that  our  tents  had 
almost  blown  away,  and  that  our  clothes,  dishes,  and  bed- 
ding were  covered  with  sand.  We  had  been  in  the  rain  all 
day  long,  and  were  cold  and  hungry.  But  our  thank- 
fulness for  the  safety  of  the  missionaries  made  us  notice 
these  things  little,  and  we  sang  songs  for  an  hour,  after  we 
had  had  our  supper.  The  singing,  both  in  English  and 
Swedish  was  very  enthusiastic.  We  often  tell  stories  and 
have  hearty  laughs.  When  the  Swedes  talk,  we  miss  the 
fun,  unless  they  translate.  We  shall  long  remember  that 
night. 

Monday,  July  i6. 

We  travelled  until  two  a.  m.  We  are  taking  long  stages 
in  order  to  reach  rvells  of  good  water.  But  sometimes  we 
camp  where  there  is  pasture,  and  “Morning  Star,”  our 
Mongol  servant,  must  go  a mile  or  two  for  water.  Our 
daily  routine  varies  little.  Mr.  Larson  sees  that  a fire  is 
started,  and  rouses  all;  sets  the  food  committee  at  work, 
cooking  oatmeal,  or  millet;  and  after  breakfast,  has  the 
dishes  washed  and  packed  away.  It  takes  a long  time  to 


'ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 


17 


load  the  camels,  and  drive  the  horses  up  to  saddle  them. 
As  we  start,  I always  repeat  the  Traveler’s  Psalm.  Then 
the  long  march  begins.  It  is  a joyful  sight,  after  a long 
day,  to  notice  the  carts  turning'in  from  the  road  to  the  spot 
where  we  are  to  camp.  The  driver  runs  along  the  line  of 
camels,  shouting,  “Sook,  Sook,”  and  jerking  their  nose- 
ropes,  which  brings  them  all  down  on  their  knees.  Then 
the  boxes  come  down  with  a thud,  and  I select  my  mattress 
and  oil  cloth,  spread  them  down  in  the  tent,  and  am  ready 
for  supper,  or  bed.  Each  has  his  place,  and  even  in  the 
dark  we  can  locate  our  own  corners.  At  meals  we  spread 
the  table  cloth  on  the  ground,  and  each  hands  the  food  to 
his  neighbor.  Sometimes  we  even  imagine  that  we  are  on 
a picnic.  We  shall  have  many  delightful  recollections  of 
our  journey,  notwithstanding  its  drawbacks.  Just  now, 
wells  are  not  many,  and  the  water  bad,  so  we  must  travel 
from  dark  to  dawn,  and  sleep  little.  When  the  halt  is 
made,  I drop  to  sleep,  unle.ss  I belong  to  the  cooking  com- 
mittee, or  unless  the  “honorable  gentlemen  of  the  argol 
committee’’  are  called  on.  Getting  but  two  meals  a day, 
and  those  at  irregular  hours,  we  learn  how  to  be  hungry 
and  thirsty. 

The  camels’  feet  wear  out,  and  we  must  patch  them  by 
sewing  on  a piece  of  leather,  fastened  by  a thong  which  is 
drawn  under  the  thick  skin  of  the  sole.  Our  honses  are 
unshod,  and  stumble  along,  which  makes  it  misery  to  ride 
them.  The  coarse  sand  cuts  hoofs  aud  shoe-soles.  Three 
of  our  men  ride  camels.  I think  of  the  Magi  when  I see 
them  ride  by.  It  is  so  funny  to  see  the  trouble  they  have 
in  making  their  camels  kneel.  They  jerk  the  nose-rope, 
and  cry  “Sook,  Sook  !’’  until  the  complaining  beast  comes 
tardily  down.  Then  they  must  hastily  jump  on,  lest  he 
should  rise  again  before  they  are  ready.  The  light  men 
ride  the  horses,  and  in  spite  of  care,  we  have  to  lead  sev- 
eral which  are  “hors  de  combat’’  from  tender  feet.  The 
camels  eat  onions,  and  their  breath  is  disagreeable.  These 


1 8 ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 

are  wild  onions;  and  more  plentiful  than  grass.  Our  cam- 
els have  good  appetites,  and  will  eat  an  oilcloth  as  readily 
as  choice  grass. 

I enclose  a few  verses,  which  I have  composed  as  we 
journeyed  along. 

SONCx  OF  THE  URGA  PILGRIM. 

Farewell  to  the  plains  of  the  Flowery  Land! 

We  flee  from  the  rage  of  the  fierce  Boxer  Band. 

Both  Yankees  and  Swedes  form  onr  strange  Gypsy  throng. 

Our  caravan  moves,  we  are  inching  along. 

Chorus ; 

Inching-  along,  we  are  inching  along, 

At  the  pace  of  a snail  we  are  inching  along. 

Our  horses  are  hardy,  our  camels  are  strong, 

We  shall  all  reach  Urga  by  inching  along. 

That  all  “lend  a hand,”  this  is  well  understood. 

So  some  pick  the  argol,  while  some  cook  the  food. 

Our  leader  is  Larson,  to  whom  we  belong, 

At  word  of  command,  we  keep  inching  along. 

Constantly  breathing  Mongolian  air, 

Hunger  is  sauce  for  our  plain,  wholesome  fare. 

The  cooks  are  the  ladies,  whose  praises  we  sing, 

Their  mutton  and  millet  are  fit  for  a king. 

Weary,  we  stretch  out  our  limbs  on  the  ground. 

Our  dreams  are  delightful,  our  slumbers  profound. 

But  the  voice  of  the  Captain  rings  out  clear  and  strong, 

“Stop  snoring!  get  up!  and  be  inching  along!” 

In  the  Desert  of  Gobi  are  rare,  precious  stones, 

In  the  Desert  of  Gobi  are  strewn  camels’  bones. 

The  sprightly  chameleon  glides  swift  from  our  feet. 

And  far  in  the  haze  bounds  the  antelope  fleet. 

At  midnight,  the  caravan  halts  at  the  camp, 

The  bright  blazing  fire  is  both  candle  and  lamp 
Tired  and  hungry  we  take  the  late  meal. 

Then  silently  off  to  our  couches  we  steal. 

The  things  that  are  common  all  men  will  despise. 

But  these,  in  the  desert,  we  most  highly  prize. 

For  water  is  worth  more  than  huge  bags  of  gold. 

And  argol  than  diamonds  of  value  untold. 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 


19 


Traveling  by  day,  or  traveling  by  night, 

Our  “Great  Combination’’  is  no  mean  sight, 

And  funnier  far  than  circus  or  clown, 

When  the  camel  rolls  up,  and  Sandberg  rolls  down. 

The  “Ship  of  the  Desert”  is  oft  in  a calm. 

For  slowness  all  vessels  must  yield  it  the  palm. 

With  eye  on  the  Pole  Star,  we  cannot  steer  wrong, 

But  safe  reach  the  harbor,  by  inching  along. 

Our  horses  are  stolen,  the  camels  will  stray, 

To  mend  broken  cart-wheels  the  train  must  delay. 

Cheered  by  the  moonbeam's  struggling  light 
We  journey  through  the  weary  night. 

The  big  dog  is  lost  and  the  sheep  are  eat, 

We  have  to  patch  the  camels’  feet, 

The  cocoa  is  out,  and  rice  there  is  none, 

And  soon  the  sugar  will  be  done. 

When  fainting  for  a drink  of  tea, 

To  quench  our  thirst,  what  joy  to  see 
Rising  above  the  horizon  far, 

The  water  pails,  and  “Morning  Star!” 

Daily  fighting  the  dust  and  the  dirt, 

Yet  where  is  the  man  who  can  keep  a white  shirt. 

Scorched  by  the  wind,  and  burnt  by  the  sun, 

Mongols  we’ll  be  when  the  journey  is  done. 

Chorus : 

Inching  along,  we  are  inching  along. 

At  the  pace  of  a snail  we  are  inching  along. 

Our  horses  are  hardy,  our  camels  are  strong. 

We  shall  all  reach  Urga  by  inching  along. 

“Chalcedony  Camp,”  July  23,  1900. 

We  have  found  ag^ates  before,  but  are  now  coming  into 
the  parts  where  the  ground  is  thickly  sprinkled  with  them. 
Picking  has  been  the  rage  for  the  last  day  or  two.  It  is 
easy  to  fill  our  pockets  with  stones  which  we  should  have 
prized  at  Kalgan,  but  of  course  we  must  be  content  with  a 
few  only.  We  have  named  this  place  “Chalcedony  Camp’’ 
because  the  ground  is  white  with  them. 


20 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 


Several  times  our  horses  have  been  without  water  for 
twenty-four  and  even  thirty  hours.  Fortunately  we  have 
found  pools  made  by  recent  rains,  where  we  could  camp, 
and  forget  the  bad  wells  we  had  passed.  Traveling  one 
night,  I had  a stumbling  horse.  I feared  to  lose  the  cara- 
van in  the  dark,  and  whipping  did  no  good.  Adam  fell 
once,  I fell  several  times,  but  fortunately  received  no 
harm. 


July  24. 

Todav  we  saw  the  mountains  at  whose  base,  Cherin,  the 
last  telegraph  station  is  situated.  We  had  not  been  told 
that  any  people  lived  at  Cherin.  As  we  journeyed  on,  sud- 
denly a picture  so  startling  met  our  eyes  that  we  all  ex- 
claimed, “How  wonderful!”  About  half  a dozen  lama- 
series, four  stories  high,  with  gilded  spires,  were  seen. 
They  were  surrounded  by  a multitude  of  one  story  houses. 
All  about  was  barrenness,  and  this  monastery  town  with 
its  red  doors  and  white  walls  rose,  a vivid  contrast  to  its 
back  ground.  For  miles  the  rocks  were  piled  one  above 
another  in  a most  grotesque  fashion.  Buddhists  choose  for 
their  temples  places  where  there  is  some  natural  wonder  as 
indicating  Divinity.  Two  thousand  Lamas  live  here. 

We  crossed  the  crater  of  an  extinct  volcano.  It  was  a 
circular  depres.sion  about  a mile  in  diameter,  the  ledges  of 
rock  showing  where  the  rim  was. 

We  often  shoot  duck  and  prairie  dogs.  The  latter  are 
fat  and  chubby,  like  half-grown  pups.  They  stand  bark- 
ing at  the  mouths  of  their  holes.  Lately  we  have  killed 
prairie  dogs  to  get  oil  for  our  carts.  Two  stray  dogs 
joined  us,  and  finding  that  they  were  well  fed,  kept  with 
us  to  Urga. 

Reaching  camp,  the  alarm  was  given  that  a dog,  not 
belonging  to  our  “Combination,”  had  run  away  with  a 
prairie  dog. 

Our  Mongol  driver  went  galloping  after,  and  soon  re- 
turned with  the  prize. 


Caravan  at  Rest 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 


21 


After  supper  we  found  that  our  adopted  dogs  had  caught 
up,  and  had  made  a supper  of  the  prairie  dog,  which  had 
been  rescued  with  such  difficulty. 

The  weather  is  now  hot  and  then  cold,  as  if  it  had 
the  ague. 

Urga  Consulate,  Urga,  Mongolia. 

July  30,  1900. 

At  last  we  have  reached  our  destination,  after  thirty- 
eight  days  of  travel.  We  sent  a telegram  from  the  last 
station,  and  the  Russian  Consul  invited  all  to  the  Consul- 
ate. So  with  our  nineteen  horses,  twenty  camels,  twenty- 
three  foreigners  and  seven  Mongols,  we  took  possession  of 
the  court  and  the  fourteen  rooms  assigned  us.  We  were 
treated  with  great  hospitality. 

I am  sitting  on  the  piazza,  listening  to  the  bell  chiming 
for  vespers.  Before  me  is  the  broad  valley  of  the  Tola 
River  covered  with  herds  cropping  the  luxuriant  grass. 
Beyond  are  mountains,  mist-covered  with  deep  green  pine 
forests  stretching  down  into  the  valleys.  It  is  like  Japan, 
with  the  deep  green  at  the  summit,  and  the  light  green  of 
the  grass  beneath. 

Urga  it.self  does  not  make  such  a pleasing  impression. 
There  are  no  streets,  and  pools  of  water  and  piles  of  refuse 
show  how  different  barbarism  is  from  civilization.  The 
Mongol  city  of  Urga  is  inhabited  by  10,000  Lamas.  I passed 
the  meat  and  horse  markets.  Small  sheds  were  to  be  seen 
everywhere,  under  which  were  large  prayer  wheels,  each 
revolving  on  an  axis.  People  pass  through  these  sheds  in 
succession,  each  giving  the  wheel  a whirl.  Prayers  are 
written  on  slips  of  paper  wrapped  around  the  wffieel,  so  each 
revolution  counts  as  a prayer.  On  almost  every  hill  by 
the  road  side,  we  saw  piles  of  stone  thrown  up  by  the  Mon- 
gols as  prayers  to  the  god  of  the  mountain.  On  the  piles 
are  little  flags  of  silk,  fluttering.  Each  flutter  signifies  a 
prayer. 

We  are  disappointed  in  not  receiving  reliable  news  of 
affairs  at  Peking.  All  tidings  are  contradictory.  We  have 


22 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 


had  news  from  Kalgan  which  has  confirmed  our  fears.  On 
Friday,  the  twenty-seventh,  a Mongol  servant  of  the  Kal- 
gan Russians  overtook  us.  He  said  that  he  had  left  Kal- 
gan sixteen  days  before.  On  July  ii,  the  Boxers  had  de- 
stroyed all  the  foreign  houses.  The  magistrate  kept  a 
guard  at  our  premises,  and  had  imprisoned  seven  persons, 
because  they  had  stolen  some  of  our  goods.  He  had  sent  to 
Peking  for  five  hundred  soldiers,  but  these  proved  to  be 
Boxers  themselves.  After  freeing  the  prisoners,  they  broke 
into  the  mission  compound,  looted  at  will,  and  finally 
burned  everything  to  the  ground.  The  Kama’s  house  in  the 
Upper  City  where  Mr.  Kar.son  lived;  the  Russian  houses 
and  church;  our  large  premises,  with  dwelling  houses, 
schools,  church  and  hospital;  even  the  firms  that  sold  for- 
eign goods,  all  were  destroyed.  The  cathedral  at  Hsuen 
Hua  shared  the  same  fate,  and  three  hundred  Christians 
are  reported  killed.  Our  Christians  escaped  so  far  as  we 
know.  We  have  all  lost  many  valuable  articles  which  can- 
not be  replaced.  But  we  ate  thankful  that  our  lives  are 
spared.  We  hear  that  the  mi.ssionaries  at  Moukden, 
Manchuria,  are  killed,  and  fear  that  many  in  the  interior 
cannot  escape.  The  uncertain  future  of  our  mission,  and  of 
ourselves  is  often  in  my  mind.  It  seems  very  improbable 
that  we  can  return  to  Kalgan  in  a month.  How  unlooked 
for  are  our  condition  and  prospects  ! All  that  is  left  for  us 
now  is  simply  to  do  our  duty,  as  it  is  unfolded  day  by  day. 

July  31,  1900. 

A gentleman  handed  me  a letter  sent  from  you  on  June 
7.  How  fortunate  that  it  was  sent  via  Russia,  since  it 
stopped  here  because  it  could  go  no  further,  and  so  caught 
me. 

In  a few  days  a great  Mongol  festival  is  to  be  held  near 
Urga.  Several  hundred  thousand  Mongols  will  be  gathered 
here,  and  the  Chine.se  official  declares  that  he  cannot  be 
responsible  for  the  safety  of  the  missionaries.  Five  hun- 
dred Cossack  soldiers  are  coming,  and  will  need  the  rooms 
in  the  Consulate  which  we  now  occupy.  So  there  is  no  rest 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 


23 


for  the  “sole  of  the  foot.’’  We  must  go  on  to  Kiachta,  two 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  further.  It  will  be  a journey  of 
two  weeks  more.  We  cannot  stay  in  Russia.  Nothing  is 
left  for  us  now  but  to  go  home.  We  have  no  houses  now, 
and  the  troubles  will  not  soon  end.  We  are  sending  a 
cablegram  to  Boston  for  approval  and  funds.  As  we  go, 
each  step  gives  us  more  light. 

Mr.  Nestigorde,  the  Norwegian  missionary  to  the  Urga 
Mongols  will  go  with  us  to  St.  Petersburg.  He  speaks 
Russian,  and  will  be  invaluable  to  us  as  interpreter,  as  Mr. 
Larson  has  been  in  the  Mongol  lands.  We  are  to  leave 
Urga  on  August  second,  and  go  by  stages  of  twenty  miles 
daily.  We  are  hurried  off  by  the  officials. 

On  the  Way  to  Kiachta. 

August  3,  1900. 

We  started  from  the  Consulate,  with  our  baggage  follow- 
ing on  ox  carts.  As  we  passed  through  Urga,  we  saw  the 
Russian  stores  and  Mongol  markets.  A company  of  Lamas 
with  high  yellow  hats  rode  by.  blowing  long  horns.  A 
Cos.sack  escorted  us  to  the  outskirts  of  the  town.  The 
Russian  Consul  has  shown  us  the  greatest  kindness,  and 
we  are  to  have  the  privileges  of  officials  on  our  journey. 

Mr.  Ne.stigorde  is  an  interesting  man.  He  has  been 
telling  me  some  of  the  experiences  of  his  six  years  in  Urga. 
He  has  spoken  with  Bogda,  the  Living  Buddha,  who  dwells 
here.  The  people  of  Urga  regard  Mr.  Nestigorde  as  a great 
man,  for  the  Lamas  come  and  argue  with  him,  and  men  of 
rank  from  afar  call  on  him.  Dressed  as  a Lama,  and  know- 
ing Mongol  well,  he  has  gone  into  the  .secret  places  of  their 
temples.  Being  a very  shrewd  man,  he  knows  how  to  deal 
with  the.  Mongols.  At  one  time  he  was  with  a company  of 
friends,  fishing.  Suddenly  they  saw  Bogda,  the  Living 
Buddha,  approachiug  with  his  retinue.  Mr.  Nestigorde 
commenced  throwing  the  fish  back  into  the  river,  saying  in 
Mongol,  “These  stupid  foreigners!  They  don’t  know  any 
better.’’  Thus  Bogda  thought  him  a worthy  man. 


24 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 


But  lately  suspicions  were  aroused  against  him,  and 
Bogda  decided  to  test  him.  So  he  sent  three  men  to  Mr. 
Nestigorde  at  midnight  to  provoke  him  to  a quarrel.  Mr. 
Nestigorde  received  them  kindly,  and  placed  three  cups  of 
mare’s  milk  before  them.  These  they  threw  in  his  face. 
But  instead  of  growing  angry,  he  poured  out  more  milk  and 
took  no  notice  of  the  affront.  So  they  departed,  foiled  in 
their  attempt.  Bogda  is  a man  of  thirty  four  years,  a 
drunkard  and  cruel,  but  sacred  in  the  eyes  of  his  followers. 
He  struck  a man  eighty  five  years  old  with  his  whip,  and 
the  old  man  thought  it  an  honor  to  receive  attention  from 
a god.  One  hundred  and  twenty  men  are  employed  by 
this  living  Buddha  to  find  and  buy  curios,  which  he  soon 
casts  aside.  If  within  a week  no  new  article  is  brought, 
the.  men  are  all  punished.  We  passed  an  electric  motor 
which  was  going  to  him.  A Russian  once  sold  him  a mag- 
netic battery,  and  began  giving  him  instructions  as  to  its 
use.  Bogda  replied,  “I  am  a god,  and  know  all  about  it.” 
But  one  day  a hor.seman  galloped  furiously  to  the  Russian, 
begging  him  to  come  at  once  and  release  the  unfortunate 
god,  who  had  experimented  too  rashly  with  the  new  toy. 
The  Russians  reap  a rich  harvest  by  selling  him  all  kinds 
of  rubbish  at  high  prices. 

We  passed  the  place  where  the  great  Mongol  Festival  is 
soon  to  be  held.  Tens  of  thousands  will  gather  here  for 
wrestling,  horse-racing  and  worship.  Bogda  presides  over 
the  Festival. 

Monday,  August  6,  1900. 

We  camped  by  a stream.  Opposite  us  were  wooded 
hills.  The  trees  are  pine,  birch  and  aspen.  Flowers  are 
abundant.  It  is  a pleasure  to  see  pinks,  asters,  mourning- 
brides,  larkspur  and  idelweiss  again.  Rhubarb  we  found 
growing  wild,  and  we  gathered  it  for  sauce.  We  have  seen 
many  birds;  larks,  swans,  gee.se,  ducks,  eagles,  vultures, 
crows  and  bustards.  The  wooded  valleys  remind  us  of  the 
Alleghenies.  “Green  pastures  and  still  waters”  are  com- 
mon, and  delight  our  desert-weary  souls. 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 


25 


Three  hundred  and  fifty  Cossacks  pas.sed  us  on  their  way 
to  Urga.  The  General  and  his  staff  came  up  and  spoke  to 
us.  We  gave  them  three  cheers,  to  which  they  responded. 
After  the  mounted  soldiers,  came  wagons  laden  with  food 
and  ammunition.  Two  Red  Cross  wagons  brought  up  the 
rear.  One  of  our  camels  took  fright,  and  nearly  stampeded 
the  Russian  army. 

Between  Urga  and  Kiachta  the  road  is  hilly,  but  lies 
through  fertile  valleys.  We  crossed  two  ranges  of  the 
Altai  mountains,  and  saw  Chinese  cultivating  wheat  and 
oats  on  the  hill  slopes.  We  find  that  the  Chinese  cash 
is  not  used  in  this  country.  Instead,  bricks  of  tea  count 
as  money,  four  bricks  being  equivalent  to  a Russian  rouble, 
or  fifty  cents.  Half  bricks  of  tea,  and  small  pieces  of  silk 
constitute  the  smaller  currency. 

Saturday,  August  ii. 

We  crossed  the  Black  and  Euro  Rivers,  and  today 
pas.sed  through  a den.se  pine  forest  The  telegraph  line 
had  cut  a wide  swath,  leaving  valuable  timber  rotting  on 
the  ground.  At  midnight  we  halted  on  the  edge  of  the 
forest  and  built  a bonfire,  throwing  on  pine  branches  which 
burnt  like  shavings.  We  enjoyed  being  among  the  lofty 
trees,  and  hearing  the  echoes. 

Monday,  August  13. 

Yesterday  was  our  last  day  of  camp  life,  for  this  morn- 
ing we  crossed  over  from  the  Chinese  into  the  Russian 
empire,  and  saw  before  us  the  church  spires  of  Kiachta. 
We  f51t  that  we  indeed  had  reached  a “City  of  Refuge,” 
and  need  flee  from  Boxers  no  longer.  For  two  months  we 
had  slept  on  the  ground  and  dwelt  in  tabernacles  like  the 
patriarchs  of  old.  It  has  been  forty-nine  days  since  we 
commenced  journeying  from  Hara  Osa,  through  the  wide 
and  terrible  wilderness,  but  the  pillar  of  cloud  has  preceded 
us,  and  we  have  come  safely  to  our  Canaan.  We  have 
been  on  the  edge  of  a typhoon  all  the  time  from  Tung  Cho 
to  Kiachta,  but  through  the  goodness  of  God  have  escaped. 


26 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 


Mr.  Nestigorde  and  Mr.  Roberts  went  on  before  the 
caravan  to  make  arrangements  for  our  accommodation. 
They  found  a hotel  which  would  take  the  whole  party  for 
$12.50  per  day.  They  were  detained  for  five  hours  by 
Russian  scouts  on  the  frontier  line.  Special  surveillance 
was  made  because  of  the  state  of  war  existing  between 
Russia  and  China.  Again,  the  Chinese  officials  would 
have  detained  us,  because  of  our  lack  of  Chinese  passports, 
but  the  Governor  of  Kiachta  sent  and  demanded  us,  on  the 
ground  that  we  had  Russian  passports  from  the  Consul  at 
Urga. 

We  found  a telegram  waiting  for  us  giving  orders  for 
/^30o  to  take  us  home.  So  we  are  really  to  come  home, — 
a thing  which  three  months  ago  would  have  seemed  a wild 
idea.  Indeed  there  is  no  alternative  for  us  now,  with 
our  mission  houses  burned,  our  converts  scattered  and 
China  in  anarchy. 

As  we  entered  Kiachta,  our  passing  created  a sensation, 
the  more  .so,  as  our  coming  had  been  heralded  a month 
before.  Radies  in  fine  carriages,  and  peasant  women  with 
shawls  over  their  heads  gazed  at  us,  and  tried  to  talk,  but  we 
could  only  reply  in  Chinese.  We  could  see  that  we  had 
come  into  a country  new  to  us.  Peasants  were  riding  in 
taranta.sses, — Russian  vehicles  made  with  an  immense  bow 
going  from  the  shafts,  and  no  seats.  Thej^  drive  three 
horses  abreast,  and  go  at  full  speed.  The  peasants  wear 
cloth  caps,  calico  smock  frocks  with  belts,  and  trousers 
stuffed  in  their  boots;  while  their  unkempt  hair  and  beards, 
coarse  features  and  .stolid  expressions,  show  utter  lack  of 
education  and  refinement.  The  higher  classes  are  refined, 
graceful  and  obliging.  Houses  are  for  the  most  part  built 
of  logs,  yet  hot-house  plants  and  lace  curtains  in  the  win- 
dows show  the  presence  of  wealth.  Business  is  flourishing, 
as  the  Czar  has  established  stores  in  every  town,  where  a 
great  variety  of  things  may  be  bought  at  reasonable  prices. 
We  are  not  yet  adepts  in  shopping  by  means  of  signs,  and 


;V'v-. 


'.'i' 
>;'v  i 


c 


'^y 


. , • I 


u. 


Town  of  Troitskosofsky,  Siberia. 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 


27 


Mr.  Ne.stigorde  is  besieged  for  words.  This  morning  Mr. 
Roberts  went  to  the  market  place  and  cackled,  so  being 
able  to  get  some  eggs. 

Our  menu  at  the  hotel  here  is  as  follows:  At  seven  or 
eight  in  the  morning  we  have  brought  us  the  samovar, 
which  contains  boiling  water  for  tea-making,  and  some  dry 
bread.  The  bread,  both  black  and  white,  is  sour,  as  the 
Russians  seem  to  prefer  it  so.  At  noon  comes  soup  and 
bread  with  the  mere.st  morsel  of  vegetable  added  at  our 
request.  At  four  o’clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  samovar 
and  tea-cakes  make  their  appearance,  and  at  nine  in  the 
evening  we  have  a meat  dinner.  We  petitioned  that  din- 
ner might  come  at  seven,  but  no,  habits  are  as  fixed  as  the 
laws  of  the  Medes  and  Persians. 

August  20,  1900. 

Thirty-tour  years  ago  today,  I landed  at  Tientsin,  and 
now  I leave  China  for  home.  We  are  at  Troitsko.safsky, 
about  two  miles  north  of  Kiachta,  and  expect  to  remain 
about  two  weeks,  while  our  caravan  is  being  sold  off,  and 
preparations  are  made  for  our  journey  to  St.  Petersburg. 

This  morning  I went  to  the  market  and  saw  carts  filled 
with  potatoes,  onions,  cabbage,  parsnips  and  huckleberries. 
John  Chinaman  was  there,  selling  odds  and  ends.  I was 
glad  to  find  some  one  to  whom  I could  speak.  It  seems 
that  all  the  Chinese  from  Siberia  are  flocking  homeward. 
The  market  women  wore  bright  handkerchie's  on  their 
heads,  and  dresses  fastened  with  suspenders  over  the 
shoulders.  Some  wore  boots.  The  men  look  as  though 
the  barber  could  improve  their  appearance.  We  saw  the 
huge  loaves  of  dark,  sour,  rye  bread,  and  tubs  of  boiled 
milk  out  for  sale.  The  milk-tubs  are  small  cylindrical  pails 
of  birch  bark. 

A detachment  of  Cossacks,  clad  in  white,  rode  through 
the  sl?reets,  singing  and  carrying  different  parts.  It  was 
inspiring.  At  night  the  band  performed  in  the  park,  and 
soldiers  sang  and  danced.  The  officers  had  a table  with 
liquors  and  the  ladies  (?)  sat  drinking  and  smoking  with 


28 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 


them.  I have  seen  drunken  men,  a sight  which  we  never 
see  in  China,  showing  that  we  have  come  to  Russian  civili- 
zation! Yet  on  the  other  hand,  we  .see  inanj^'  school  houses 
and  churches.  I notice  fire-engines  in  the  streets  and 
ladders  by  everj^  hou.se,  for  as  the  buildings  are  mostly  of 
wood,  great  care  must  be  taken.  The  costumes  of  the 
peasants  are  peculiar.  The  women  wear  furniture  calico 
dresses,  with  heavy  shoes,  and  shawls  over  their  heads. 
The  bo3's  invariably  have  their  trousers  tucked  in  their 
boots  and  wear  the  shirt,  belt  and  cloth  cap.  I remember 
fifty  or  sixty  years  ago,  bo^^s  had  the  same  style  of  caps, 
and  wore  their  trousers  tucked  in  their  boots.  So  Russia 
may  be  only  a half  century  behind  the  times. 

We  heard  telegrams,  two  days  old,  saying  that  the 
Chinese  had  been  defeated  near  Peking,  and  that  foreigners 
are  still  be.sieged  in  the  city.  I hope  they  may  be  soon 
delivered.  Our  way  of  escape  was  easier  than  their  impris- 
onment. We  hear  that  forty  thousand  German  and  Russian 
soldiers  have  passed  through  Irkoutsk.  There,  the  Chinese 
stores  are  plundered,  and  Chine.se  are  fleeing  for  their  lives 
homeward.  It  seems  strange  that  we  are  fleeing  for  our 
lives  in  the  opposite  direction.  Bach  family  of  Ru.ssians 
here  has  several  Cossacks  quartered  in  the  house.  This  is 
one  of  the  inconveniences  of  living  under  a despotic  govern- 
ment. 

August  24. 

I went  to  the  Greek  church  services,  and  was  capti- 
vated b}'  the  choir.  The  priest  who  read  the  .service  had  a 
voice  like  a “Bull  of  Bashan.’’  There  were  grand  bass 
voices  among  the  singers.  As  I listened  to  the  harmonies, 
I thought  of  the  music  of  heaven. 

Mrs.  Soderbom’s  baby  died,  and  was  buried  in  the  ceme- 
tery here.  I offered  prayer  and  read  from  the  Bible,  and 
we  all  helped  to  get  a little  stone  for  the  grave.  The  baby 
had  a hard  time  in  the  desert,  being  sick  with  the  whoop- 
ing-cough and  lacking  good  milk. 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 


29 


The  Russians  here  have  been  very  kind  to  us.  The 
wife  of  the  banker,  on  hearing  tliat  the  Swedes  were  penni- 
less, offered  them  free  passage  to  Irkoutsk,  but  their  money 
has  finally  come,  so  they  will  not  be  obliged  to  avail  them- 
selves of  the  offer.  She  has  invited  the  whole  party  to  din- 
ner, given  them  the  use  of  her  luxurious  Russian  bath,  and 
sent  carriages  to  take  the  ladies  to  church.  Truly  Russian 
hospitality  is  unbounded. 

August  27. 

We  read  the  papers  eagerly  to  find  news  about  China. 
All  seems  to  be  in  confusion  there.  We  have  eight  taran- 
tasses  engaged  to  take  us  the  five  days  journey  to  Lake 
Baikal,  where  we  may  get  steamer  to  Irkoutsk.  From 
there  we  go  via  the  Trans-Siberian  Railway.  We  started 
late  in  the  afternoon. 

The  three  horses  abreast  of  each  tarantass  galloped 
along  at  a furious  pace.  I had  a feeling  of  exhilaration 
in  the  thought  that  I was  on  my  wav  home,  and  would 
soon  be  there,  now  that  the  time  of  rapid  travel  had  begun, 
by  tarantass,  steamer,  and  car.  Late  at  night,  we  came  to 
the  post  station.  The  agent  told  us  we  could  not  be  enter- 
tained, but  a letter  of  permit,  shown  by  Mr.  Nestigorde, 
silenced  him.  We  were  admitted,  and  given  two  rooms, 
where  we  slept  on  the  floor.  Our  mixed  company  made 
the  rooms  look  like  Castle  Garden,  where  the  emigrants 
sit  and  jabber  as  they  land  from  the  ships. 

Coming  to  the  Selinga  River,  we  crossed  on  a ferry. 
About  seventy  five  miles  from  here  are  the  graves  of  the 
wives  of  Stallybrass  and  Swan,  missionaries  to  the  Buriats 
from  1817  to  1841,  when  they  were  expelled  by  the  Rus 
sians.  Mr.  Gilmour  visited  here  in  1870.  Nothing  re- 
mains of  their  work  except  their  translation  of  the  Bible 
into  Mongol.  The  Greek  church  claims  the  Buriats,  but 
many  are  heathen,  for  we  see  temples,  and  pieces  of  cloth 
tied,  as  prayers,  to  the  branches  of  trees.  We  stopped  at 
a Buriat  house.  Although  made  of  wood,  it  was  like  a 
Mongol  tent  in  that  the  fire  was  built  in  the  center  of  the 
room,  and  let  out  its  smoke  through  a hole  in  the  roof. 


30 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 


We  came  to  a station  situated  in  a romantic  spot  on  the 
banks  of  a stream,  surrounded  by  an  amphitheater  of  pine- 
clad  hills.  Our  drivers  have  the  horses  gallop  up  hills  and 
down.  We  climbed  a mountain  range  covered  with  dense 
forests.  The  saplings  made  a jungle  where  berries  and 
flowers  could  be  found  in  plenty.  At  the  summit  of  the 
mountain,  w'e  found  a signal  station,  where  the  Customs 
offlcers  examined  our  baggage.  They  were  puzzled  over 
our  Gobi  agates.  We  w’ere  now  eight  thousand  feet  above 
sea  level,  and  it  took  us  five  hours  to  make  the  steep  descent 
to  Lake  Baikal.  It  was  beautiful  to  look  down  the  ravines 
and  see  the  dark  pines  and  the  scarlet  berries  of  the  moun- 
tain ash.  We  could  see  snow'  on  distant  mountains, 
although  it  was  still  August.  We  had  trouble  with  our 
knavish  tarantass  driver,  and  had  to  apply  to  the  police, 
but  with  such  an  interpreter  as  Mr.  Nestigorde,  who  is  as 
ready  for  fight  as  au}'  of  his  Viking  ancestors,  we  easily 
came  out  victorious. 

September  i,  1900. 

We  have  now  been  almost  three  months  on  the  go,  and 
have  finished  the  stage  of  quadruped  transportation.  We 
bid  farew'ell  to  horse  and  camel,  and  welcome  the  more 
rapid  service  of  steam.  As  we  took  passage  on  Lake  Baikal 
we  saw  the  landing  of  thirteen  hundred  young  and  hardy- 
looking conscripts,  the  flower  of  the  Russian  people,  w'ho 
are  on  their  way  East.  They  seemed  to  be  conscripts,  hast- 
ily collected,  as  many  had  no  uniforms  or  guns,  and  some 
wore  common  straw  hats. 

Our  passage  by  steamer  over  Lake  Baikal  took  only  a 
few  hours.  Finding  at  Barachig  that  there  was  no  train  for 
Irkoutsk  and  no  hotel  in  the  place,  our  whole  party 
renewed  its  desert  experience  by  camping  out  on  the  station 
platform. 

Our  stay  in  Irkoutsk  was  busied  with  arrangements  for 
our  journey  over  the  Trans-Siberian  Railway  to  St.  Peters- 
burg. By  the  so-called  Diminution  System,  a certain  reduc- 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 


31 


tion  of  fare  is  given  proportionate  to  the  distance  traveled. 
So  we  found  that  for  twenty  dollars  each  we  could  get  second- 
class  tickets  for  the  whole  distance  of  over  five  thousand 
miles.  Our  party  occupies  an  entire  car.  This  is  divided 
into  sections,  each  of  which  has  four  berths.  The  third 
class  is  as  crowded  as  the  steerage  of  a vessel,  and  many  are 
without  berths.  As  second-cla.ss  passengers,  we  are  entitled 
to  forty  pounds  of  baggage  free,  but  all  excess  must  be  paid 
for  at  the  rate  of  seven  roubles  for  forty  pounds. 

The  train  moves  very  slowly,  and  stops  at  stations  to 
let  the  passengers  get  boiling  water  at  the  tea  houses.  The 
Russian  word  for  “hurry,”  is  “scurry,”  which  is  very 
expressive,  and  takes  the  place  of  the  familiar  “All  aboard!” 
of  America. 

Pine  wood  is  so  plentiful  as  to  be  burnt  by  the  locomo- 
tives, and  we  are  not  troubled  by  cinders.  Log-pens  along 
the  road  are  heaped  with  loose  brush,  so  that  sparks  may 
not  set  the  woods  on  fire.  Moveable  fences  are  stacked 
together  for  use  when  snowdrifts  come.  We  passed  through 
mining  districts  where  gnats  abounded,  and  the  workmen 
had  their  faces  covered  with  veils.  Workmen  lack  the 
ambition  they  have  in  America.  Convicts  are  brought  out 
in  great  numbers,  but  many  work  their  way  back  along  the 
railroad.  Drunkenness  brings  almost  universal  poverty. 
Although  many  a village  may  get  ten  thousand  rubles  a year 
simply  through  the  sale  of  sable  skins,  j’et  people  remain 
poor.  Men  smoke  and  let  the  women  do  the  hard  work. 

We  passed  over  steppes  perfectly  level,  with  woods  and 
broad  fields.  On  the  twelfth  of  September,  we  crossed  the 
Ural  mountains,  and  saw  the  monument  that  marks  the 
boundary  line  between  Europe  and  Asia.  A vast  bridge 
stretches  across  the  Volga,  which  is  said  to  be  the  largest 
river  in  Europe.  We  are  interested  in  seeing  the  life  of 
the  people  in  these  various  districts.  At  Ofa,  there  have 
been  famines  for  the  last  few  years.  So,  both  on  account 
of  the  scarcity  of  food,  and  because  of  the  cold,  the  people 
hibernate  in  the  winter,  sleeping  on  their  stoves,  and  wak- 


32 


ACROSS  THE  DESERT  OF  GOBI. 


ing  up  to  drink  hot  water,  or  eat  a little  from  time  to  time. 

It  is  impossible  to  speak  too  highly  of  the  kindness  of 
the  Russian  officials  all  along  the  way.  Although  the 
Trans-Siberian  road  was  at  this  time  closed  to  civilians, 
and  choked  with  troops  bound  for  the  East,  yet  a special 
car  was  always  reserved  for  us  by  the  authorities.  In  Mos- 
cow aud  St.  Petersburg  the  greatest  consideration  and  hos- 
pitality were  shown  us.  At  Moscow,  a party  of  young 
American  tourists  took  up  a subscription  to  enable  us  to 
take  a special  car  on  the  fast  train  to  St.  Petersburg. 
Reaching  that  city  on  the  eighteenth  of  September,  we 
were  most  cordially  received  by  the  Hon.  Mr.  Pearce, 
in  the  absence  of  our  American  ambassador,  Char- 
lemagne Tower.  Proceeding  thence  to  Berlin  and 
London,  we  sailed  from  Glasgow  on  the  “City  of  Rome,” 
and  landed  in  New  York  on  the  eighth  of  October.  Reach- 
ing St.  Louis  on  the  loth,  in  time  to  attend  the  annual 
meeting  of  the  American  Board,  we  met  our  Peking  friends, 
from  whom  we  had  parted  four  months  before,  little 
dreaming  of  the  thrilling  experiences  we  were  to  pass 
through.  They  told  us  of  their  miraculous  preservation 
during  the  siege.  Hanging  on  the  wall  was  the  roll  of 
martyred  missionaries. 

We  remembered  that  our  names  might  have  appeared 
with  theirs,  but  for  the  special  providence  of  God. 


j|cro$$  the  Desert  of  Gobi. 


A NARRATIVE  OF  AN  ESCAPE  FROM  THE 
BOXER  UPRISING. 

By  mark  williams. 

Paper  Cover,  Illustrated,  35  Cents  per  Copy. 


Mailed,  F’ost  Paid,  on  Receipt  of  the  Price 
Sent  to  Prof.  S.  R.  WILLIAMS,  Oxford,  Ohio. 

The  Hamilton  Republican  says;  “No  more  graphic  account  of  the  perils 
and  hardships  of  the  American  missionaries  has  come  from  the  troubled  East. 

From  Prof.  A.  D.  Hepburn,  Ex-President  of  Miami  University; 

“The  courage  and  cheerfulness  with  which  the  dangers  and  hardships  were 
met,  and  which  characterize  so  remarkably  these  letters,  cannot  but  awaken  in 
every  reader  admiration  and  esteem  for  all  the  members  of  the  “Great  Combina- 
tion.” 

From  Murat  Halstead; 

“1  am  indebted  to  you  for  the  story  of  your  adventures  in  crossing  the  great 
Asiatic  desert.  It  is  more  interesting  because  written  so  simply.  There  must 
have  been  a temptation  to  do  a good  deal  more  than  to  keep  to  a style  so  quiet  in 
regard  to  affairs  so  remarkable.” 

From  Albert  Shaw,  Editor  of  the  American  Monthly  Review  of  Reviews; 

“These  letters,  written  as  they  were  from  day  to  day,  with  all  the  brevity  that 
the  circumstances  of  a rapid  and  dangerous  flight  made  necessary,  have  more 
value  even  than  an  elaborate  narrative  written  at  a subsequent  time.  They  throw 
the  clearest  kind  of  side  light  upon  certain  conditions  of  Northern  China  and 
Siberia.” 


Show  This  To  Your  Congregation,  Sunday  Schooi,  Mission  Band  or  Neighbor. 


